


Out of the Deep

by SmittyJaws



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/pseuds/SmittyJaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of the events in <i>Into the Ocean</i>.  Shameless Mike/Jo fluff.  Written for fanfic100 prompt "064. Fall."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Into the Ocean](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214917) by [SmittyJaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/pseuds/SmittyJaws). 



> Decided to make it a two-shot after all, because I figured Mike needed some comfort to contrast all the hurt I’ve been giving him in my other stories. :P
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own OCs, should I create any for these stories.

When Mike woke up, it was to find himself lying on a bed in what looked like his quarters at UNIT HQ. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there, or what had happened, but he felt utterly wretched.

He couldn't seem to draw a decent breath, as barking coughs kept assailing his throat (which felt as though it had been rubbed with sandpaper), and to top it off, he just couldn't seem to get warm. He tried curling up into himself, but that didn't help - if anything, it only made things worse, as that movement aggravated bruises he hadn't realized he had.

He then tried to sit up, as he knew he kept a spare woollen blanket in his locker, but couldn't seem to muster up the energy to do so. It was as if the blanket was made of lead weights, for all the effort it took for him to make any sort of movement.

The attempt of trying to move completely sapped what little energy Mike might have had, and he soon found himself unable to keep his eyes open.

The next time he regained consciousness, he found he wasn't alone; a figure was sitting by his bedside, holding his hand. He struggled to identify who it was through his bleary eyesight. "Jo?"

The figure leaned forward. "Mike? Oh, thank goodness you've woken up - I was starting to get worried."

“Jo? What’s-“ Anything more he might have had to say was cut off in another fit of harsh coughing.

“Don’t try to talk,” she soothed. “You’ll only make your throat worse.”

He still wanted to find out what was going on, so he tried again: “What happened?”

Her expression clouded as she looked at him. “You haven’t been feeling well, ever since you nearly drowned yesterday. We were so worried; the Doctor said you were lucky to escape with only moderate hypothermia.”

Mike tried his hardest to remember the events she was talking about, then it all came back to him: pushing Jo away from the edge, his own fall from the cliff, trying to stay afloat in the freezing ocean water, and being rescued by the Brigadier and the Doctor. “Jo, I…” he tried to talk again, but this time was cut off by more shivers as his body tried desperately to warm itself up.

“You really shouldn’t be trying to talk,” Jo admonished, trying to look severe, but utterly failing when she saw how miserable Mike looked. “I’m sorry; that’s probably not helping much.”

Mike shrugged, or at least tried to; the shivers rather undermined that. Jo, noticing his condition, immediately offered him some tea she had brought for him. Mike nodded gratefully, and allowed Jo to help prop him up so he could drink it. When the mug was placed in his hands, he simply held it for a minute or two, just enjoying the feeling of warmth emanating from the drink. Eventually he drank it, though, as he knew it would do him no good if the tea were to get cold. 

When he was finished drinking the tea, he felt a good deal better than he had earlier; the warm peppermint drink was helping to lessen his shivers, and soothed his aching throat. He still felt rather chilled, though, and looked to Jo pleadingly, before trying to speak again. “Wool blanket… in my locker.”

His voice was still rather soft and scratchy, but thankfully, Jo seemed to understand what Mike wanted, and got up to fetch him the blanket, draping it over top of him once she had retrieved it.

Now that he had the extra layer on top of him, and a mug of warm tea inside him, Mike was finally warming up somewhat and feeling sleepy, and having difficulty keeping his eyes open. Jo helped him to lie back down again, and turned out the lamp. “Get well soon, Mike,” she whispered, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaving him to rest.

As the door closed, it occurred to Mike that he still hadn’t told her why he had done it; why he had saved her life, and how he felt about her. Maybe when he was able to get out of bed again… 

He fell asleep dreaming of how he would tell her.


End file.
